Robin Talley - Pulp

Marie smiled and took Janet’s arm. “We certainly do.”

The restaurant turned out to be a small, quiet place on a side street off Wisconsin, with worn white tablecloths and dim lamps overhead. The girls were seated right away, and Marie ordered for both of them, smiling up at the waiter with a poised nonchalance Janet envied.

Marie was so strong and composed. She showed none of the clumsy awkwardness Janet always felt. It was a lucky thing Marie had wanted to celebrate with her.

Janet smiled fondly across the table as two drinks appeared in front of them. She recognized the glasses from her parents’ cocktail parties. “What are these?”

“Martinis.” Marie smiled and lifted her glass. Janet imitated her, trying to look equally refined. The waiter hadn’t said a word about identification, so he must’ve thought the girls looked older than their eighteen and nineteen years. No one here at Meaker’s, it seemed, had realized Janet was nothing but a plain schoolgirl. “My father always orders them on special occasions.”

Janet took a swallow. The drink was cool, with a hint of spice. It tasted very adult. She could picture the girls in A Love So Strange sipping drinks like these alone in their apartment one evening.

Marie asked about a friend from high school she hadn’t seen lately, and soon they were caught up reminiscing about their high school days. Before long, Janet’s glass was empty and a fresh drink had taken its place. She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, and she couldn’t quite remember what had just been said that had made her laugh so hard. All she knew was that Marie was laughing, too, and that was all that seemed to matter.

Their food had arrived, but Janet had barely eaten. Marie’s pot roast and potatoes were in a similar state.

“So this fellow Mom wanted me to go out with tonight,” Marie was saying, as she took another sip, “he’s a college man in town for the summer. Dartmouth. His uncle works with Dad at Treasury, and he’s a dreadful bore—”

“How do you know he’s a bore?” Janet interrupted. “Have you met him already?”

“No, no, but you know how these college men are.”

Did she? This was the first time Janet had heard Marie talk about college men that way. Or was it merely the first time Janet had noticed it? Had Dolores Wood’s book changed the way she saw everything, all at once?

“In any case,” Marie went on, “Dad’s up for a promotion—that’s why they’ve been going to the club so often—and so Mom thinks I ought to go out with this Harold Smith fellow, since his uncle would be Dad’s boss if he gets the new job. But I told Mom I didn’t want to go out with some strange college man. I said I wanted to go celebrate with my best friend. Mom huffed and puffed, but what could she say in the end? Soon I’ll be earning my very own paychecks, and she and Dad won’t have any say over what I do.”

“Really?” Janet hadn’t thought of that. “Won’t you go on living with them, though?”

“Well, sure—unless I were to move in with some of the other State Department girls, I suppose. A few of my business school classmates invited me to share an apartment, but I didn’t have a job yet so I had to tell them no. Wouldn’t that be magnificent, though? Not to have to follow anyone else’s rules? To be able to go out whenever you chose, with whomever you wanted?”

Janet nodded, but in truth she couldn’t imagine such freedom. Until she’d read A Love So Strange , her dreams had only extended so far as a college dorm. It seemed a lovely idea, though, to be away from her family’s watching eyes.

But in a dorm, of course, there were still strict rules and curfews. Living at Holy Divinity, only a mile or so up Wisconsin Avenue, might be even more restrictive than living at home. At least in the house Janet was allowed to use the phone when she chose, provided Mom, Dad and Grandma didn’t need to make a call.

“I must admit, I’m a bit nervous.” Marie bit her lip, and Janet forgot all her musings about college and apartments.

In their place, her hope flared bright. Could Marie be nervous for the same reason as Janet?

“What will everyone in the office think of me?” Marie gazed down into her drink. “What if I don’t keep up with the other girls? What if my boss expects more of me than I can do?”

Janet tamped down her disappointment. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. They’ll all adore you. How could they not?”

Marie smiled up at her, yet she still looked bashful. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“I’m not being kind. I’m being honest. You’re perfect, Marie.”

The words were out of her mouth before Janet could think about how they sounded. Now she felt bashful, too.

Yet Marie didn’t look embarrassed as she held her gaze across the table.

Neither of them spoke, but something passed in that shared look that Janet couldn’t have named. It buzzed through her with an energy she’d never known.

Unless that, too, was solely in Janet’s imagination.

The waiter came to take their empty glasses, inquiring if they needed anything else. His eyes were on Marie and she answered for them both, in a voice so grown-up Janet couldn’t believe she’d ever found cause to be nervous about anything. “No, thank you. I suppose it’s getting late.”

The waiter left, and Marie withdrew a few bills from her purse and tucked them under the glass. Her every movement was mesmerizing. “We ought to catch the streetcar. Your mother will be worried.”

“Oh, forget my mother.” Janet laughed and climbed awkwardly to her feet, holding the table to right herself.

Marie laughed, too, and followed. On the way out of the restaurant, she took a matchbook from the front desk and slipped it into her purse with a smile. Janet grabbed one, too, giggling.

The sidewalk was dark under the burned-out streetlight as the girls stumbled outside, the pavement grit caking under their heels. Up ahead, on Wisconsin, people were walking quickly along the sidewalk, but out here there was no one out but the two of them.

“I’m glad you didn’t have to work tonight after all.” Marie tucked her arm into Janet’s as they began to walk. “This afternoon, the very instant the man at State told me I’d gotten the job, I knew the only person I wanted to celebrate with in all the world was you.”

Janet closed her eyes, tasting the words.

If she were Sam, the main character from A Love So Strange —if she’d had Sam’s courage, her knowledge of girls, her understanding of the world—she would kiss Marie. Right where they stood.

Sam didn’t bother with waiting. She went after what she wanted.

Of course, even Sam wouldn’t dare kiss a girl out in the open darkness, where anyone might see them. But maybe they could move somewhere out of sight. Duck beneath the awning of the shuttered corner shop, perhaps.

Sam would’ve said a clever line, too. Something witty and alluring.

Janet opened her eyes.

She meant to think of something clever. Truly, she did. In the end, though, the words that came out were, “Um...let’s go over there.”

Marie didn’t seem to mind her abruptness. Her eyes were bright, her answer quick. “Yes, let’s.”

They hurried around the corner and stood, silent, their eyes locked on one another’s. Janet could no longer think about books or jobs. She couldn’t think about anything but Marie and that look they’d shared across the table.

She closed her eyes. And all at once, there in the darkness, it was happening. It was real.

Janet was kissing her.

It was madness. She knew it was madness, because in that moment Janet could not have prevented herself from kissing Marie if all the world had tried to stop her. And so it was some time before she began to understand that Marie was kissing her back.